The man on the radio was very enthusiastic. Yes, he said, the 2012 Olympics were going to be a great boost to everyone and it didn't matter whether you were living in Stratford or South Shields, the Games would offer something for you. He even suggested that people, ordinary people, were going to get caught up in the Olympic spirit and maybe even compete in the beach volleyball in the Mall or the canoeing at Broxbourne. Wow! Count me in!
But he wasn't talking to me. I don't think there's ever been someone over 70 who's won any kind of Olympic medal even though Sir Stephen Redgrave was almost hailed as a golden oldie when he collected his fifth gold at the 2004 Games. He was on the same radio programme giving his well-rehearsed "I-am-an-Olympic-legend" chat and reminding us all that even he, at 50 years old, was no longer capable of getting to the starting line let alone running, swimmming, rowing or doing anything else that requires either speed, stamina, power and often all three at the same time.
Sir Stephen will have plenty of media attention and VIP treatment during the 2012 Games while some of us will need a bus pass just to get there. Will there be any concessions for the millions of oldies who will be taking this last chance to see the World's greatest sporting spectacle? I doubt it. When the man on the radio was asked about tickets for 2012 he made no mention of special rates for oldies - but I bet students and under-16s will get some concessions.
The tickets don't go on sale until 2011 - and there will be around 7 million available. A lot of those will go to 'privileged' representatives, officials and corporate customers and you can be sure that many of them will be making quite a song and dance about the fact they have tickets for the opening ceremony, the 100 metres final, the swimming and all the other high profile events. You won't see them on Hadleigh Downs or at the canoeing heats!
We need to have a campaign: I love campaigns. Let's make a fuss and insist that all those over 65 should qualify for special admission prices and at least have a chance of seeing some of the athletic or swimming finals. We don't want to have concessions for the Greco-Roman wrestling and early rounds of the boxing that often take place before lunch. We should be able to buy - at a reduced rate - a book of tickets that include a cross-section of sporting events and include one or two finals.
They keep talking about the legacy of the Games and what it will mean to the children and young people who will be inspired by the events and performances they see in London. That's alright if you are 7, 17 or 27 - but tell me what anyone of 67 and 77 will get out of it! Well I suggest the man on the radio goes back to his Olympic friends and they all put on their thinking caps. Let's have some ideas that embrace the whole population.
Of course the Olympics are all about sporting achievement and supreme fitness but that shouldn't exclude anyone who can't run for a bus or jump over the puddles outside Sainsburys. As I have said many times on this blog, there are a lot of us out there. So the question is clear - what are they going to offer the golden oldies before, during and after 2012. We deserve a legacy as well.
A gold medal for the best suggestion!
Tuesday 29 December 2009
Monday 21 December 2009
THE CHRISTMAS YAWN
We all love it, of course. Christmas. Eat and drink too much then stretch out and snore away the hours until the next round of food and booze. Happens every year. Just to make you realise it's not all fun and festivities there are always a few family arguments to liven up the proceedings. The latest board game seemed like a good idea when it was purchased - but the rules weren't designed to be understood by anyone who has just had a few too many Bristol Cream sherries. You cheated. No, I didn't. That's me finished. Count me out.
Was it always like that? Well, yes it was actually. The TV also seemed to dominate Christmas Day and Boxing Day and there weren't many who would switch it off if Morecambe and Wise were doing one of their specials. And those who liked to wear some silly Santa outfit could spend the afternoon on the terraces watching a football match that was often an anti-climax for the largest crowd of the season.
As the years go by, the attractions of staying up late to play games, get drunk and watch a Hollywood blockbuster are not so appealing. Bed is far more inviting even if that means leaving the grandchildren downstairs to cause havoc as they become too tired for comfort and often very fractious.
The best part is still that walk after Christmas lunch..."to get a bit of fresh air". It does help to release some of the flatulence induced by the Brussel sprouts and the cup of tea when you return is very welcome. The presents which seemed like a good idea when you saw them in Marks and Spencer or Toys R Us are now piled in the corner almost forgotten. They will come out again on Boxing Day - but those gloves were not a good idea and there's already a suggestion that the shirt will be returned because it's the wrong size. Next year you vow to buy everything on-line.
The build-up to this period of over-indulgence becomes more frenetic as the hours and minutes tick by. By Christmas Day it's clear that there are too many tins of Quality Street, plates of nuts everywhere that bring on coughing fits and enough alcohol to have the neighbours round every night for a month. Next year, says someone, we are thinking of going to a hotel for a few days.
You never do. It's a just another example of the idle chit-chat that dominates the social banter when the tele isn't on. This is not an occasion for deep, philosphical conversations and for that we should be more than thankful. In fact, it's the best time for doing nothing except eating, drinking and sleeping. And my favourite is sleeping.
So I'm off to bed. You can't do that; it's only 10 o'clock. I can - and I am.
Good night.
Was it always like that? Well, yes it was actually. The TV also seemed to dominate Christmas Day and Boxing Day and there weren't many who would switch it off if Morecambe and Wise were doing one of their specials. And those who liked to wear some silly Santa outfit could spend the afternoon on the terraces watching a football match that was often an anti-climax for the largest crowd of the season.
As the years go by, the attractions of staying up late to play games, get drunk and watch a Hollywood blockbuster are not so appealing. Bed is far more inviting even if that means leaving the grandchildren downstairs to cause havoc as they become too tired for comfort and often very fractious.
The best part is still that walk after Christmas lunch..."to get a bit of fresh air". It does help to release some of the flatulence induced by the Brussel sprouts and the cup of tea when you return is very welcome. The presents which seemed like a good idea when you saw them in Marks and Spencer or Toys R Us are now piled in the corner almost forgotten. They will come out again on Boxing Day - but those gloves were not a good idea and there's already a suggestion that the shirt will be returned because it's the wrong size. Next year you vow to buy everything on-line.
The build-up to this period of over-indulgence becomes more frenetic as the hours and minutes tick by. By Christmas Day it's clear that there are too many tins of Quality Street, plates of nuts everywhere that bring on coughing fits and enough alcohol to have the neighbours round every night for a month. Next year, says someone, we are thinking of going to a hotel for a few days.
You never do. It's a just another example of the idle chit-chat that dominates the social banter when the tele isn't on. This is not an occasion for deep, philosphical conversations and for that we should be more than thankful. In fact, it's the best time for doing nothing except eating, drinking and sleeping. And my favourite is sleeping.
So I'm off to bed. You can't do that; it's only 10 o'clock. I can - and I am.
Good night.
Friday 9 October 2009
BACK TO THE BOOKS AND THE BICYCLE
Back at college - year four, week one. Just nine months to go before my exams next May and handing in my dissertation. It seems like only yesterday that my journey towards a BA History degree at Birkbeck began yet by the time I celebrate my 71st birthday in December, the pressure will really be on.
This week it was good seeing some familiar faces, students who were with me on previous courses, especially Giles, another grey-haired oldie, who admits to struggling but is hanging on. He and I are on the "Social Changes in 19th century Britain" course and this fits in nicely with the other courses I have completed in previous years.
I have volunteered to do a presentation on "The European Experience of Declining Fertility" in week three so reading papers on subjects about women, sex and contraception is high on my list of learning priorities! Can't say that I know much about these sort of things but, who knows, I may finish up with a lot of knowledge on this issue. My LONDON FOOTSTEPS walkers may like to know more!
The other course is "Colonial Encounters: Race, Identity and Cultural exchange in the British Empire" which is all about events and developments in Africa, India and Australia. It will focus on the role and attitudes of the Brits as Empire builders and colonialists but from a different perspective.
The bicycle has been cleaned and oiled so the twice-weekly journey across London from the railway station to the college is on two wheels rather than relying on London Transport. Makes a big difference after lectures because I can be back on the train within 30 minutes and home before 10 pm. This may sound irrelevant but waiting for a London bus on a dreary winter evening is no fun so the bicycle has been an essential part of my travel plans over the past three years.
The College has been expensively re-organised with new lecture rooms and computer facilities everywhere. Dell must be making a fortune. The college is always crowded during the first few weeks and this suggests that a lot of people are signing on for a whole range of degree courses and willing to combine work with part-time education. Those who have work and family commitments must find it very difficult giving a number of hours each week to their studies. Several of those who started at the same time as I did have decided on one course a year instead of two and extended their time from four to five or even six years.
I'm looking forward to this final year but not without some trepidation. The amount of reading and studying has increased which is why I have given up my job as Chairman of the Manchester Drive Allotment Society. You wouldn't believe the amount of paper-work, telephone calls, emails and trouble-shooting the job demands! That's the subject for another blog.
For the moment it's back to the study of "Gender and fertility decline among the British Middle Classes". Here we go again.
This week it was good seeing some familiar faces, students who were with me on previous courses, especially Giles, another grey-haired oldie, who admits to struggling but is hanging on. He and I are on the "Social Changes in 19th century Britain" course and this fits in nicely with the other courses I have completed in previous years.
I have volunteered to do a presentation on "The European Experience of Declining Fertility" in week three so reading papers on subjects about women, sex and contraception is high on my list of learning priorities! Can't say that I know much about these sort of things but, who knows, I may finish up with a lot of knowledge on this issue. My LONDON FOOTSTEPS walkers may like to know more!
The other course is "Colonial Encounters: Race, Identity and Cultural exchange in the British Empire" which is all about events and developments in Africa, India and Australia. It will focus on the role and attitudes of the Brits as Empire builders and colonialists but from a different perspective.
The bicycle has been cleaned and oiled so the twice-weekly journey across London from the railway station to the college is on two wheels rather than relying on London Transport. Makes a big difference after lectures because I can be back on the train within 30 minutes and home before 10 pm. This may sound irrelevant but waiting for a London bus on a dreary winter evening is no fun so the bicycle has been an essential part of my travel plans over the past three years.
The College has been expensively re-organised with new lecture rooms and computer facilities everywhere. Dell must be making a fortune. The college is always crowded during the first few weeks and this suggests that a lot of people are signing on for a whole range of degree courses and willing to combine work with part-time education. Those who have work and family commitments must find it very difficult giving a number of hours each week to their studies. Several of those who started at the same time as I did have decided on one course a year instead of two and extended their time from four to five or even six years.
I'm looking forward to this final year but not without some trepidation. The amount of reading and studying has increased which is why I have given up my job as Chairman of the Manchester Drive Allotment Society. You wouldn't believe the amount of paper-work, telephone calls, emails and trouble-shooting the job demands! That's the subject for another blog.
For the moment it's back to the study of "Gender and fertility decline among the British Middle Classes". Here we go again.
Saturday 3 October 2009
A GREAT WAY TO FLY. RUBBISH!
It's time to put the record straight. British Airways are a company who look after those who pay extortionate fare prices and don't care much for those who sit down the back-end of the aircraft and are crushed into seating that is totally unsuitable for anyone over the age of 12.
No leg room for normal people; seats that tilt back and nearly decapitate the person in the row behind; food that is barely edible and coffee that tastes like - well certainly not coffee. The cabin staff have perfected the art of treating these 'lower' classes like something people find on the soles of their shoes after walking across a cow field.
There is not much attempt to make the trip a bit more comfortable. I would liked to have read an English newspaper when we left Boston but a polite request to the steward in response to my "do you have any English newspapers?" was a curt "No. You can get the BBC news on your screen." I'd already seen The Times appearing in the 'up-market' sections of the aircraft - and later he came down the aisle with the Daily Mail.
The food is served up like school dinners. Get on with it and don't ask questions. The staff much prefer to hide behind curtains and talk loudly about their schedules.
"Last week I went to Rio. Next week it's Calgary and Vancourver. Have you been to Cape Town. What hotel did you stay in while in Vegas?" It's the kind of loud, casual chat that is for the benefit of nearby passengers trying to get some shut-eye.
Finally we arive in London, crumbled, aching, tired and, yes, irritable. It's over for the cabin staff - so they are laughing and joking amongst themselves without so much as a goodbye and thanks for flying BA. The Chief Steward and one other member of the cabin crew were prepared to wish us a safe onward journey. The rest of the staff gave the impression they were glad to see us go.
So flight BA 214 from Boston to London on 2nd October 2009 was a grim and uncomfortable experience. Those sitting at the back-end were made to feel as though we were doing BA a favour. It seems there is a culture within this huge company that the 'oiks' don't matter. Wrong. They do. Next time we go to America then Mr Richard Branson will get our business.
Friday 2 October 2009
BUTLINS TO BOSTON - IN 49 YEARS
Doesn't seem like 49 years ago we were enjoying the delights of Butlins Holiday Hotel at Margate. But honeymoons only come round once in a lifetime - for most of us fortunately - and I don't remember too much about it. I certainly couldn't have imagined that in 2009 we would be celebrating the 1st October anniversary in the Seaport Hotel, Boston, Massachusetts.
Margate remains a sad place these days. Unemployment is high and as a holiday destination it's hardly worth a mention. Boston on the other hand is a prosperous city that has all the atmosphere and excitement of modern America. If there is a recession and a financial crisis then it seems to have passed this place by.
I must have enjoyed a few pints of beer at Butlins in 1960 but I can't remember what the room was like. We didn't have a car - and probably couldn't afford taxis at the time. But who would want to go and hit the town when Butlins can provide such in-house entertainment. Those were the days of dancing the night away to a three or four piece playing the latest Frank Sinatra numbers. It was even pre-Beatles and Rolling Stones.
We don't have the energy to do that sort of thing 49 years later. We're now taking it easy in a quiet corner of this hotel waiting to catch the bus to Logan Airport and a six hour flight back to the UK. Around us are people enjoying cocktails and watching the news that Rio has beaten Chicago for the 2016 Olympics on screens in every corner of the hotel. The new arrivals are checking in for their Boston weekend breaks. They wouldn't be interested in our tales of Margate!
Nor would all the jolly souls attending a seminar for the New England Society for Vascular Surgery. They have their badges and name tags, the bags and the pens and have been flooding into the mezzanine area to 'network' and taste the Seaport Hotel goodies and fine wine. Wonder what they talk about? This must be what is meant by having a heart-to-heart chat.
So we tick off another year and look forward to a big celebration in 2010. Won't be here in Boston or at Margate though. A family get-together is much more appropriate and most of the people around us will understand that in a few years time.
Margate remains a sad place these days. Unemployment is high and as a holiday destination it's hardly worth a mention. Boston on the other hand is a prosperous city that has all the atmosphere and excitement of modern America. If there is a recession and a financial crisis then it seems to have passed this place by.
I must have enjoyed a few pints of beer at Butlins in 1960 but I can't remember what the room was like. We didn't have a car - and probably couldn't afford taxis at the time. But who would want to go and hit the town when Butlins can provide such in-house entertainment. Those were the days of dancing the night away to a three or four piece playing the latest Frank Sinatra numbers. It was even pre-Beatles and Rolling Stones.
We don't have the energy to do that sort of thing 49 years later. We're now taking it easy in a quiet corner of this hotel waiting to catch the bus to Logan Airport and a six hour flight back to the UK. Around us are people enjoying cocktails and watching the news that Rio has beaten Chicago for the 2016 Olympics on screens in every corner of the hotel. The new arrivals are checking in for their Boston weekend breaks. They wouldn't be interested in our tales of Margate!
Nor would all the jolly souls attending a seminar for the New England Society for Vascular Surgery. They have their badges and name tags, the bags and the pens and have been flooding into the mezzanine area to 'network' and taste the Seaport Hotel goodies and fine wine. Wonder what they talk about? This must be what is meant by having a heart-to-heart chat.
So we tick off another year and look forward to a big celebration in 2010. Won't be here in Boston or at Margate though. A family get-together is much more appropriate and most of the people around us will understand that in a few years time.
Thursday 1 October 2009
A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE
We all know that Americans love their food - and enjoy it in great quantities. But for those of us who have diminishing appetities - and I refer to those of us seniors - then it becomes something of an endurance test. Can we really eat all that mountain of food on the table?
Boston is the home of great sea food; that's my assessment although all the guide books tell you that. Scallops, littlenecks (guess what they are), clams, scrod, chowder, lobster - you name it, they catch it and produce a whole range of inventive and tasty dishes that are worth every mouthful.
But there's just too much. The bread that comes beforehand, the salad and, like the other night at the world famous Anthony's at Pier 4, the plate of garlic musrooms, all these can fill you up before the main course arrives. Who wants to be stuffed before enjoying the dish of the day.
So here's the tip. Avoid the appetizers and go straight to the main course. If you enjoy that and still have room for a dessert then fine. But in my experience, the real joy are the main courses - and there's always plenty on the plate.
Boston is the home of great sea food; that's my assessment although all the guide books tell you that. Scallops, littlenecks (guess what they are), clams, scrod, chowder, lobster - you name it, they catch it and produce a whole range of inventive and tasty dishes that are worth every mouthful.
But there's just too much. The bread that comes beforehand, the salad and, like the other night at the world famous Anthony's at Pier 4, the plate of garlic musrooms, all these can fill you up before the main course arrives. Who wants to be stuffed before enjoying the dish of the day.
So here's the tip. Avoid the appetizers and go straight to the main course. If you enjoy that and still have room for a dessert then fine. But in my experience, the real joy are the main courses - and there's always plenty on the plate.
Tuesday 29 September 2009
TRAVELLING WITH CHARLIE IN BOSTON
Great city, Boston. They managed to kick out the Brits in the late 18th century and have never looked back since. It's a place where seniors get a good deal - and non better than on the trains and buses.
If you're over 65 then the Seniors Charlie Card is a must. It's not a joke - just a sensible way of giving us a chance to get around without worrying about what ticket to get and how to operate the machines. This way it's simple - you get the card free and add money when necessary. The trips are just 60 cents for a train ride and 40 cents on the buses.
But the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority don't make it easy to get a Senior Charlie Card. There are only two places where you can apply and get a card straightaway and one of those is in the centre of the City - at Downtown Crossing on the Red Line.
"Go to the black door at the end of the platform". I followed the instruction and stepped inside the world of Charlie Card. This was it - and it was all so simple. They wanted ID of course; a passport or anything with your date and picture on it will do. You pose for a photograph and the plastic Charlie Card is handed over.
That's not all. It is valid for FIVE years so in my case that means 23rd September 2014. But I'm a little worried because it also says - EXPIRES. Does that mean me or the card?
If you're over 65 then the Seniors Charlie Card is a must. It's not a joke - just a sensible way of giving us a chance to get around without worrying about what ticket to get and how to operate the machines. This way it's simple - you get the card free and add money when necessary. The trips are just 60 cents for a train ride and 40 cents on the buses.
But the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority don't make it easy to get a Senior Charlie Card. There are only two places where you can apply and get a card straightaway and one of those is in the centre of the City - at Downtown Crossing on the Red Line.
"Go to the black door at the end of the platform". I followed the instruction and stepped inside the world of Charlie Card. This was it - and it was all so simple. They wanted ID of course; a passport or anything with your date and picture on it will do. You pose for a photograph and the plastic Charlie Card is handed over.
That's not all. It is valid for FIVE years so in my case that means 23rd September 2014. But I'm a little worried because it also says - EXPIRES. Does that mean me or the card?
Sunday 30 August 2009
SENIOR RAILCARDS WITH VODKA!
It's not much fun driving these days especially over a busy holiday period which is one reason why Pat and I decided to travel from Leigh-on-Sea to Denham on public transport for a golden wedding anniversary celebration of old friends. It made sense to us; we could get there refreshed, enjoy a drink or two and not have to worry about getting behind the wheel while 'under the influence'.
There was another more practical reason. We had Senior Railcards which meant a third off the weekend return fares plus bus passes that gave us free travel on London Transport. As long as the trains ran to time and buses were not diverted by road-works, I estimated that we could make the trip in just over two hours.
To say it didn't quite work out as planned is an understatement. The train from Leigh to London was on time and then we had allowed 45 minutes on the 205 bus from Aldgate to Marylebone. But when I made enquiries about the frequency of the 205, the bus inspector gave an answer which I should have realised was based on his long experience of the way Transport for London operates. He said the 205 was running - but was likely to be delayed. We soon found out what he meant.
After 35 minutes of jams and diversions we had travelled less than one mile. Then the bus suddenly stopped. Instead of going on to Paddington as indicated, it was so far behind schedule that the driver announced that he wasn't going any further than Old Street and everyone should leave and wait for the next bus. So we got off and waited for the next 205. When it came, Paddington was clearly indicated as the final destination - but we wondered if this was another journey we might have to abandon after a few more stops.
So we arrived at Marylebone after one hour and ten minutes on two buses - a distance of about three miles. Incredible. There was just time to work out the complexities of the RailEasy ticket dispenser - what irony there is in that name - and catch the 4.20 to Denham. Sitting opposite a Chelsea supporter giving his young son a running commentary of the latest Premier League scores didn't help our frame of mind. How relieved we were to finally step out at Denham Station.
Surely a five minute taxi ride to the Hotel would be straight-forward enough? Wrong! I called the local taxi and they said it would arrive within 10 minutes. Thirty minutes later it turned up - and we finally walked into the de Vere, Denham Grove over 3 hours and 30 minutes after leaving home. I needed that drink by now.
Just over two hours later we repeated the process in reverse. Taxi to the station. Fine. Denham to Marylebone, fine. Then a re-acquaintance with the 205 after standing for 20 minutes at the bus-stop. The thought that evening traffic in Euston Road wouldn't be so heavy was niave. By now we were both travel-traumatised!
Finally, just for good measure, we sat on the C2C train from Fenchurch Street to Leigh-on-Sea surrounded by teenagers travelling to an all-night clubbing session in Southend. That meant noise..loud voices, mobile phone conversations, raucous laughter and occasional outburst of 'rapping'. Just for good measure, some of them were enjoying swigs of Vodka from a bottle and washing it down with Lambrusco! When would this travel experience come to an end.
It did. Home at last. What relief! Was the occasion worth travelling for more than six hours? Well we could have been stuck on the M25 for just as long but we shall never know. The temptation of using Senior Railcards and bus passes to save time and money seemed too good an opportunity to miss. I'm not so sure.
There was another more practical reason. We had Senior Railcards which meant a third off the weekend return fares plus bus passes that gave us free travel on London Transport. As long as the trains ran to time and buses were not diverted by road-works, I estimated that we could make the trip in just over two hours.
To say it didn't quite work out as planned is an understatement. The train from Leigh to London was on time and then we had allowed 45 minutes on the 205 bus from Aldgate to Marylebone. But when I made enquiries about the frequency of the 205, the bus inspector gave an answer which I should have realised was based on his long experience of the way Transport for London operates. He said the 205 was running - but was likely to be delayed. We soon found out what he meant.
After 35 minutes of jams and diversions we had travelled less than one mile. Then the bus suddenly stopped. Instead of going on to Paddington as indicated, it was so far behind schedule that the driver announced that he wasn't going any further than Old Street and everyone should leave and wait for the next bus. So we got off and waited for the next 205. When it came, Paddington was clearly indicated as the final destination - but we wondered if this was another journey we might have to abandon after a few more stops.
So we arrived at Marylebone after one hour and ten minutes on two buses - a distance of about three miles. Incredible. There was just time to work out the complexities of the RailEasy ticket dispenser - what irony there is in that name - and catch the 4.20 to Denham. Sitting opposite a Chelsea supporter giving his young son a running commentary of the latest Premier League scores didn't help our frame of mind. How relieved we were to finally step out at Denham Station.
Surely a five minute taxi ride to the Hotel would be straight-forward enough? Wrong! I called the local taxi and they said it would arrive within 10 minutes. Thirty minutes later it turned up - and we finally walked into the de Vere, Denham Grove over 3 hours and 30 minutes after leaving home. I needed that drink by now.
Just over two hours later we repeated the process in reverse. Taxi to the station. Fine. Denham to Marylebone, fine. Then a re-acquaintance with the 205 after standing for 20 minutes at the bus-stop. The thought that evening traffic in Euston Road wouldn't be so heavy was niave. By now we were both travel-traumatised!
Finally, just for good measure, we sat on the C2C train from Fenchurch Street to Leigh-on-Sea surrounded by teenagers travelling to an all-night clubbing session in Southend. That meant noise..loud voices, mobile phone conversations, raucous laughter and occasional outburst of 'rapping'. Just for good measure, some of them were enjoying swigs of Vodka from a bottle and washing it down with Lambrusco! When would this travel experience come to an end.
It did. Home at last. What relief! Was the occasion worth travelling for more than six hours? Well we could have been stuck on the M25 for just as long but we shall never know. The temptation of using Senior Railcards and bus passes to save time and money seemed too good an opportunity to miss. I'm not so sure.
Sunday 2 August 2009
NO WORD FROM EILEEN
Eileen never got back to me. The call never came. I waited 48 hours hoping that she would ring to confirm what I thought was a deal to upgrade my Vodafone account - but not a word. She remains the distant voice in some anonymous call centre, part of an 'experienced sales team' - Vodafone's description not mine - talking to others and trying to do deals that would squeeze just a bit more money out of punter's pockets.
It was a fleeting affair that came to nothing. I finally realised that her acceptance of my request for a £10 a month fixed term contract and a new Nokia 6210 mobile phone was an upgrade too far. She did say that it had to be agreed by her supervisor - and I now suspect the answer was no. I hope Eileen didn't lose her job because of me!
After a couple of days I tried to make contact with Eileen but she was out there somewhere and couldn't be located when I called Vodafone. Eileen didn't answer. Instead it was .. "Hello, my name is John." He didn't seem to know who she was - or was it Vodafone policy to say that and then quickly move on to make sure they kept my custom by offering a new deal. They didn't want to lose me to Orange or T.Mobile or anyone else.
As you would expect, John was polite, chatty and very business-like. Yes he could give me a very good deal although it wasn't as good as Eileen's offer. The basic price had risen to £20 but at least it included a free Nokia 6210. He provided all the facts and figures that were obviously there on the screen in front of him and was not slow to point out that I would be saving a few pounds each month. I listened but decided not to ask about a Blackberry. He chatted on and then I mentioned Eileen.
Her deal was much better than what he was offering - and he knew it. The tone of the conversation changed and very soon we were discussing figures that were below his offer and much closer to Eileen's. I was now in the driving seat and he knew that it would be pointless to argue his case any longer. We began to chat about issues beyond our current business deal although I suspect he was also crunching the numbers on his screen at the same time just to make sure he didn't have to climb down any further and 'talk to his supervisor'.
We parted on very amicable terms. Vodafone had signed me up for another 24 months and I was getting two new Nokia handsets - one for me, the other for Pat. The monthly charge had been reduced by £20 altogether and now I await the Royal Mail special delivery and that moment when some shiny new technology will be unwrapped and I turn to page one of the booklet which says 'How to get the best out of your new Nokia 6210'. Now that could demand a lot of concentration.
Thanks Eileen. I won't be talking to you again. I didn't quite get the deal you suggested but Vodafone should be happy. I am.
It was a fleeting affair that came to nothing. I finally realised that her acceptance of my request for a £10 a month fixed term contract and a new Nokia 6210 mobile phone was an upgrade too far. She did say that it had to be agreed by her supervisor - and I now suspect the answer was no. I hope Eileen didn't lose her job because of me!
After a couple of days I tried to make contact with Eileen but she was out there somewhere and couldn't be located when I called Vodafone. Eileen didn't answer. Instead it was .. "Hello, my name is John." He didn't seem to know who she was - or was it Vodafone policy to say that and then quickly move on to make sure they kept my custom by offering a new deal. They didn't want to lose me to Orange or T.Mobile or anyone else.
As you would expect, John was polite, chatty and very business-like. Yes he could give me a very good deal although it wasn't as good as Eileen's offer. The basic price had risen to £20 but at least it included a free Nokia 6210. He provided all the facts and figures that were obviously there on the screen in front of him and was not slow to point out that I would be saving a few pounds each month. I listened but decided not to ask about a Blackberry. He chatted on and then I mentioned Eileen.
Her deal was much better than what he was offering - and he knew it. The tone of the conversation changed and very soon we were discussing figures that were below his offer and much closer to Eileen's. I was now in the driving seat and he knew that it would be pointless to argue his case any longer. We began to chat about issues beyond our current business deal although I suspect he was also crunching the numbers on his screen at the same time just to make sure he didn't have to climb down any further and 'talk to his supervisor'.
We parted on very amicable terms. Vodafone had signed me up for another 24 months and I was getting two new Nokia handsets - one for me, the other for Pat. The monthly charge had been reduced by £20 altogether and now I await the Royal Mail special delivery and that moment when some shiny new technology will be unwrapped and I turn to page one of the booklet which says 'How to get the best out of your new Nokia 6210'. Now that could demand a lot of concentration.
Thanks Eileen. I won't be talking to you again. I didn't quite get the deal you suggested but Vodafone should be happy. I am.
Tuesday 28 July 2009
WHAT SHALL I SAY TO EILEEN?
Big decisions are coming up! My 2-year contract with Vodafone has expired and now I have to decide whether to have a Blackberry or stick to the bog-standard mobile phone which is functioning well enough at the moment. The occasional problems I have experienced can be put down to 'user error'.
But these telephone companies are clever. They never tell you when the contract expires - and you go on happily paying the bill each month when you could be saving money. My contract ended three months ago; I ring up Vodafone and ask for a new telephone and a new deal. Bingo. I can do that for £10 which is less than half what I have been paying - and would continue to pay unless I had called their sales office.
That's clever. They keep taking the money yet know all the time that you could have exactly the same service for far less - plus an upgraded telephone. But they keep quiet and rake in as much as they can until you make the first move.
Now that's what some people call good business practice. I would call it sharp practice. They should look at the data on all calls and texts you have made during the contract period, realise that you would benefit from a new telephone and a cheaper tariff and do something about it. That's what customer service means to me.
Now what about this Blackberry? Do I need one? Will I be persuaded by Eileen at the sales office to go for it? Clearly I will not use all the gadgets and facilities it has to offer but maybe I should go with the technology. Don't want to be seen in a railway carriage making a call on a piece of equipment that is 18 months out-of-date do I?
So I shall think about it carefully. It would be nice to show off with a new Blackberry Curve but I'm not sure. What shall I say when Eileen rings back? Watch this space.
But these telephone companies are clever. They never tell you when the contract expires - and you go on happily paying the bill each month when you could be saving money. My contract ended three months ago; I ring up Vodafone and ask for a new telephone and a new deal. Bingo. I can do that for £10 which is less than half what I have been paying - and would continue to pay unless I had called their sales office.
That's clever. They keep taking the money yet know all the time that you could have exactly the same service for far less - plus an upgraded telephone. But they keep quiet and rake in as much as they can until you make the first move.
Now that's what some people call good business practice. I would call it sharp practice. They should look at the data on all calls and texts you have made during the contract period, realise that you would benefit from a new telephone and a cheaper tariff and do something about it. That's what customer service means to me.
Now what about this Blackberry? Do I need one? Will I be persuaded by Eileen at the sales office to go for it? Clearly I will not use all the gadgets and facilities it has to offer but maybe I should go with the technology. Don't want to be seen in a railway carriage making a call on a piece of equipment that is 18 months out-of-date do I?
So I shall think about it carefully. It would be nice to show off with a new Blackberry Curve but I'm not sure. What shall I say when Eileen rings back? Watch this space.
Sunday 19 July 2009
HOW DO I GET A MAGIC BLUE BADGE?
Those people who park badly on double-yellow lines at awkward and often dangerous places seem to have very little consideration for the rest of the population. They get away with it because prominently displayed on the dashboard is - the blue badge!
Until now I have considered these people to be taking liberties; abusing the system; able to get this special dispensation to avoid paying parking fees or getting one of those dreaded tickets from a Parking Enforcement Officer. Now I am having second thoughts! If you can't beat 'em - join 'em!
My old legs aren't doing too badly at 70 but that accident I had as a 15-year-old boy when I fell down a cliff in Devon (see reference in Torbay lifeboat station!) is now coming back to give me a bit of pain. Smashing your ankle as a youth was a bit of a setback but a combination of a skin graft, a bone graft and the surgeon's skill managed to get me through the next 55 years. They said I would have arthritis at 40 and walk with a stick - but that has been avoided, just.
Now I'm wondering. The old leg is playing up more often than usual. Driving a car is not a problem; it's the walk at the other end of the journey which can be a bit painful. A limping old man in Leigh-on-Sea is not a pretty sight.
So I am going to see whether my situation qualifies for one of those park-anywhere Blue Disability badges. I shall fill in the forms and send them to the relevant disability monitoring service, no doubt a department that ticks boxes and goes by the rules. Do I have to write an eloquent piece to support my case? Probably - but no porky pies allowed!
So watch this space. The application will be submitted soon accompanied by a polite and sensible letter. Surely they won't say no to my request. Can it be any harder that getting tickets for Centre Court at Wimbledon on a FA Cup Final? Will they throw out the forms if I make one slight error?
This is a big moment in my life. I have to use all my life experience and common sense to persuade these people, whoever they are, that I have a justified case for a disability badge. Wish they wouldn't call it that, though. I much prefer 'Mobility and Life Enhancing Accreditation'. I won't be suggesting that just yet!
Monday 13 July 2009
ANYONE FOR TENNIS, CRICKET, FOOTBALL..?
This is the time of the year when grand-parenting duties and grand-parenting visits are taking place up and down the country. But if you think this is the time for relaxation - then think again. When you get the invitation to go on holiday with children and grand-children it sounds like a challenge you shouldn't turn down; by the time the week or fortnight is over you are exhausted - and needing a real holiday.
The problem is that grandchildren, especially the pre-teens, don't realise that you can't play tennis like Roger Federer, cricket like Flintoff or football like Beckham. It's flattering to know that you have a reputation for fun and activity but the truth is nowhere near the image. It's tiring and exhausting just trying to keep up with all that's going on and finally you finish up counting the hours and days when you are back in the quiet and comfort of your own home.
Of course we all get a lot of pleasure from grand-children - most of the time - but it's just as enjoyable putting your feet up after they've gone. That is when we all have time to think about what sort of a world they will inherit. What are we leaving them?
The poverty, violence, sadness and hardship which were all part of wartime Britain are still with us. The answers have not been found and there seem no solutions to these problems, certainly not in the short term. We tried, or some did, and failed. Today there will be crowds lining the streets of Wootton Bassett to pay homage to young, brave men who lost their lives in Afghanistan. Memories of World War Two will still be there for the older people paying their silent respects. Where have we gone wrong?
Our young people, our grandchildren, are ambitious, enthusiastic and determined. They are innocent now but so were we once upon a time. We have to hope that they are not disillusioned by what is happening in the world today and feel inspired and excited by the future. Individually we may be proud of what we have achieved in the past 70 years; collectively we have fallen short of the goals and targets that we set ourselves in the pre-war years.
The banner passed to our children; now it goes to their children - to our grandchildren. They can still imagine becoming second Federers, Flintoffs and Beckhams. Let's hope they succeed at that and in the wider world arena of life.
The problem is that grandchildren, especially the pre-teens, don't realise that you can't play tennis like Roger Federer, cricket like Flintoff or football like Beckham. It's flattering to know that you have a reputation for fun and activity but the truth is nowhere near the image. It's tiring and exhausting just trying to keep up with all that's going on and finally you finish up counting the hours and days when you are back in the quiet and comfort of your own home.
Of course we all get a lot of pleasure from grand-children - most of the time - but it's just as enjoyable putting your feet up after they've gone. That is when we all have time to think about what sort of a world they will inherit. What are we leaving them?
The poverty, violence, sadness and hardship which were all part of wartime Britain are still with us. The answers have not been found and there seem no solutions to these problems, certainly not in the short term. We tried, or some did, and failed. Today there will be crowds lining the streets of Wootton Bassett to pay homage to young, brave men who lost their lives in Afghanistan. Memories of World War Two will still be there for the older people paying their silent respects. Where have we gone wrong?
Our young people, our grandchildren, are ambitious, enthusiastic and determined. They are innocent now but so were we once upon a time. We have to hope that they are not disillusioned by what is happening in the world today and feel inspired and excited by the future. Individually we may be proud of what we have achieved in the past 70 years; collectively we have fallen short of the goals and targets that we set ourselves in the pre-war years.
The banner passed to our children; now it goes to their children - to our grandchildren. They can still imagine becoming second Federers, Flintoffs and Beckhams. Let's hope they succeed at that and in the wider world arena of life.
Sunday 17 May 2009
HOW ABOUT BEING A PAID VOLUNTEER?
We hear a lot about volunteering these days and how inspiring and rewarding it is for people who have retired. Just think of the experience and knowledge that you can bring to organisations who desperately need some support and advice to survive in these difficult times.
There's no doubt that people get a lot of satisfaction from doing voluntary work as well as reaping some benefits. You meet new people, extend your interests and in a lot of cases there are some important health benefits. Now that already sounds a bit like spin from a Government organisation! It's a message which can flatter the golden oldies and make them feel WANTED!
But if the senior citizens of this country have so much to offer - then why not pay them for passing on the skills and experience that we are told are greatly valued. A lot of people would like to see some financial reward for what is, in effect, doing a job.
The volunteer has been hi-jacked by some organisations who want something for nothing. The person who use to give his or her services for free is now being exploited. Standing on a windy street corner selling stickers for a child support charity or making tea at the community centre every Tuesday morning is what what most of us would recognise as a charitable and voluntary act - and we do it because it helps others and is rewarding in other ways.
Now volunteering is seen as an alternative to paid employment - or that's how it seems. One example is the role of the School Governor.
If you choose to be a School Governor and believe all the publicity and information which education authorities hand out, then very soon you will realise that this is a responsible role which demands a lot of time and some decision-making. You have to attend regular meetings, need to be security checked, attend specialist training courses on a whole range of education issues, visit your school regularly and sometimes lend a hand at functions and outings as well as understanding the complexity of school budgets that can often run into seven figures.
How many people volunteer to do that kind of work without getting paid? Not many. Up and down the country there are vacancies at hundreds of schools for Community Governors and Local Authority Governors. Some of the people best suited for this kind of work are those who have retired and can now decide what they want to do with their lives.
If education is so important - and it is - then the Government should appreciate that being a School Governor is more than a voluntary job. They should set a pay scale for this work. Every Governing Body is crucial to the effective running of a school; they can be held accountable for a failing school and in some ways can be considered like the Board of Directors running a small company.
The word 'volunteer' should not be attached to the position of Community or Local Authority School Governor. It should be a paid position so that there is commitment on both sides. There are plenty of retired people who would welcome the challenge - and many schools would like to have them 'on board'.
There's no doubt that people get a lot of satisfaction from doing voluntary work as well as reaping some benefits. You meet new people, extend your interests and in a lot of cases there are some important health benefits. Now that already sounds a bit like spin from a Government organisation! It's a message which can flatter the golden oldies and make them feel WANTED!
But if the senior citizens of this country have so much to offer - then why not pay them for passing on the skills and experience that we are told are greatly valued. A lot of people would like to see some financial reward for what is, in effect, doing a job.
The volunteer has been hi-jacked by some organisations who want something for nothing. The person who use to give his or her services for free is now being exploited. Standing on a windy street corner selling stickers for a child support charity or making tea at the community centre every Tuesday morning is what what most of us would recognise as a charitable and voluntary act - and we do it because it helps others and is rewarding in other ways.
Now volunteering is seen as an alternative to paid employment - or that's how it seems. One example is the role of the School Governor.
If you choose to be a School Governor and believe all the publicity and information which education authorities hand out, then very soon you will realise that this is a responsible role which demands a lot of time and some decision-making. You have to attend regular meetings, need to be security checked, attend specialist training courses on a whole range of education issues, visit your school regularly and sometimes lend a hand at functions and outings as well as understanding the complexity of school budgets that can often run into seven figures.
How many people volunteer to do that kind of work without getting paid? Not many. Up and down the country there are vacancies at hundreds of schools for Community Governors and Local Authority Governors. Some of the people best suited for this kind of work are those who have retired and can now decide what they want to do with their lives.
If education is so important - and it is - then the Government should appreciate that being a School Governor is more than a voluntary job. They should set a pay scale for this work. Every Governing Body is crucial to the effective running of a school; they can be held accountable for a failing school and in some ways can be considered like the Board of Directors running a small company.
The word 'volunteer' should not be attached to the position of Community or Local Authority School Governor. It should be a paid position so that there is commitment on both sides. There are plenty of retired people who would welcome the challenge - and many schools would like to have them 'on board'.
Friday 15 May 2009
WE'RE OFF - BUT NOT RUNNING!
So what's this all about then? It's not a blog selling anything or buying anything. We don't have any free offers or home hints. There's nothing dodgy about the content and no-one is expecting you to log on and tell the world your intimate secrets.
This is for those who have reached the age of 70 and don't mind admitting it. A few - and it is a few - may be able to play tennis or even run a Marathon but the majority of us who have reached the age of three score years and ten now fall asleep in front of the TV at nine o'clock in the evening.
But hold on a minute. If you thought this was a blog for grumpies and bores then think again. It's going to be about celebrating 70 and letting the rest of the world know that although we may be grey, bald, a bit deaf, saggy in places and occasionally dribble, we still have a great deal to offer.
Watch this space!
David
This is for those who have reached the age of 70 and don't mind admitting it. A few - and it is a few - may be able to play tennis or even run a Marathon but the majority of us who have reached the age of three score years and ten now fall asleep in front of the TV at nine o'clock in the evening.
But hold on a minute. If you thought this was a blog for grumpies and bores then think again. It's going to be about celebrating 70 and letting the rest of the world know that although we may be grey, bald, a bit deaf, saggy in places and occasionally dribble, we still have a great deal to offer.
Watch this space!
David
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